Note to self: do not use the arm load of wood that you are carrying into the house at 4 am to protect your face when you fall into the boardwalk going into the house – no real harm, some manly blood – and some scrapes, the mirror says I lost the fight, hmmmm …

The day ended better than it began. Age is not kind to my illusions about aging but the truth will come out. This one shook me up pretty good. Just sayin’. Doin okay though, friends checked in and made it easier: Bucklin Moon moved the wood inside; Good man that one. Early childhood training in the snows of Vermont. Told me he loved to chop wood and stack it. He said a stacked cord looked like a job well done. Roger that, Buck. Thank you.

Long night last night not much sleep to be found. A demon’s festival, inside my bruised head. Got out of bed and went out to get some wood – made it back inside, one demon down… grabbed my camera and went out to look over the valley bathed as it was in crystal cold pre-dawn light. Got the shot. Tough 24 – hell make that tough run from May to here. Broke down a little: “He will not see me standing here to watch the valley filled with snow. I have promises to keep”, said I to no one in particular. With Apologies to Mr. Frost. And Godspeed, Mr. Mandela.

Photo Credits

Into the room the elephants come and go remembering Michelangelo (I always wanted to do that) giving advice over coffee cups and dirty spoons, speaking words of love as if in the alley of recently uncrated targets and teddy bears, that are props in the carnival of our lives, a zoo of our own making fading away under the weight of black and white dreams never to be repeated. A kiss is still a kiss, so too the abyss. The elephants know that memory is a two edged sword. Memory is indifferent to itself and its use, on account of the past is always past. Even when it is never really past, (Bill Faulkner said that, I think).

The zoo is always open. Until it isn’t.

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“It is those we live with and love and should know who elude us.” ~ Norman Maclean

Hope that this isn’t a mistake to make contact… there are no unknown dangling promises here, and nothing needs to break but I want you to know that in the hard hours under tonight’s uncertain skies, I go to my zoo, I ask the elephants what to do and the answer I find is; tell yourself no more lies. But where you are concerned, I never learned to ask; what can I do to ease things for you? I can tell you though that after I lost my way, broken by the deluge of pain, I found no sweet kindness in my refuge of rage. Please make no mistake, there is no repair here I can offer that will make your hill easier to climb but I’m troubled to know that I let you go because I could never offer you the key to what you wanted from me.

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Restless night last night so I picked up Genesis and got as far as the part where God says to Abraham, “Kill me a son.”

Naturally Abe says, “No, you got to be kidding me.”

God says “Word!”

Abe goes home. Sarah asks, “How was your day?”

He tells her…. She says, “Oh, my”…. Abe shrugs and says, “Waddayagonnado?”

I ain’t them but I woke up thinking dark thoughts about what’s been happening and the whole thing made sense to me at 3 AM. With apologies to Bob Dylan, I gave up making lists of who has checked in and who has checked out. I slept better after that. Waddayagonnado? Indeed!
 
RIP Phil Savath, December 28th, 1946 – November 3rd, 2004.

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Home at last, arm in a sling. The ablation procedure went so well that the docs had a clear view of some other stuff: “so how about we put in a pacemaker… for long-term success?”

I’m all about long-term these days I said with way more calm than I actually felt. Not too long after that, my new sling and I emerged from the electro-physio lab and home we went walking with a steady step and enjoying the fine companionship of my brother-in-law Jerry Adler and my sister Beth Lebowitz. I might add that my heartbeat was and is steady today. When we got there, I hit the couch, held tight to my unexpected tears and watched while Jerry and Beth put together beef stew and vegetables for the days ahead while I recover.

My little house was alive with family, laughter and food.

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